Drake and Olivia's Unlikely Conversation
by firefly-hwufanficwriter
Summary: (The Royal Romance.) At the Beaumont Bash "table of exiles," a slightly drunk Drake and a VERY drunk Olivia discuss Liam and Savannah - and she makes a confession that Drake would have never, ever expected to hear. But drunk people don't lie…
1. The Table Of Exiles

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Choices. This fun game belongs to Pixelberry! :)**

* * *

 **Chapter One: The Table Of Exiles**

* * *

As Drake sat down at his assigned table at the very back of the Beaumont ballroom, he sneaked a glance at the head table, where Liam, Riley, Maxwell, Bertrand, and the king and queen were seated. In front of them, at the table closest to the front, sat Hana with Lady Penelope, Lady Kiara, and Lady Madeleine.

During the last ball, Drake had been seated at the same back table as Riley and Hana, and he had enjoyed their company, chatting about whiskey with Riley and hearing about Hana's "worst party ever" story. And no matter what anybody at that table said, Drake still thought he won that. What was being served dinner at midnight compared to _a party without whiskey?_

He didn't really want to be up there with all of them them tonight - that would have just been awkward - but it would have been nice to spend the evening with somebody who wasn't a total stranger, somebody whose name he actually knew and could talk to. But that wasn't going to happen.

 _Might as well get this over with._

As he reached out with his hand to remove his place card from the right wing of the swan-shaped napkin Maxwell had folded yesterday, he heard an irate voice almost right next to him.

"What am I doing back here?!"

Drake blinked. He thought he knew that voice - it sounded like a very familiar voice that had sniggered at and insulted and offended Drake more times than he could count - but it couldn't be who he thought it was… could it?

Just to check, he looked up - and saw Olivia scowling at an auburn-haired female server with an apologetic expression.

"The seating chart says you're to sit here," she said meekly, looking like she wanted to sink into the floor.

Her simple explanation made Olivia even more furious.

"Don't hide behind that seating chart excuse! You know who I am!"

Despite himself, Drake grinned.

* * *

Drake knew what this was about - payback, pure and simple. And while he was still trying to decide whether to be impressed by Riley's surprisingly vindictive nature, or put out that he now had to sit next to Olivia for the duration of the meal, the woman in question forcefully threw her evening clutch bag on the immaculately-set table, making the silver cutlery and crystal wineglasses jump.

"Seating me at the back table? Me!? I'm a _duchess!_ " she seethed to herself, oblivious to her immediate surroundings as she glowered at the head table.

He gave a snort. "Duchess or not-" At the sound of Drake's smug voice, Olivia whipped her head to her left so fast that her artfully arranged bun was almost dislodged, "-that doesn't matter here at the back table."

As her face grew dark at the veracity of his statement - and probably at his close proximity as well - Drake held back a laugh. Being a noble, Olivia was used to having her orders obeyed, and she was used to getting the best of everything.

But tonight, she had been defied - he knew that was how she would perceive it - by a server at somebody else's estate, and, not only that, but instead of getting the best seat, food, and company, she had to settle for the back table, cold food, and Drake.

 _She looks like she's about to explode just from being seated all the way back here. Maybe this'll be fun after all._

Deciding to take it a step further, Drake dramatically waved an arm over the fancy silverware, swan-shaped napkins, and expensive glasses as if he were a king presenting his vast kingdom. Sarcastically, he said, "Welcome to the table of exiles."

"More like the table of _animals,_ " Olivia hissed, glaring at her swan-shaped napkin for a moment before grabbing it by the head and shaking it out with more force than strictly necessary.

Drake's mocking smile faltered.

While she could have been referring to her avian-looking napkin, Drake _knew_ otherwise, and, for a moment, he was glad that Savannah wasn't in Cordonia anymore. Drake could take insults just fine, but his sister would have very hurt to hear such a comment, and her vulnerability would have empowered Olivia to make even more offensive remarks.

Nobles like Olivia were trained from birth to target people's weaknesses. Drake wouldn't give her the satisfaction of finding any of his.

Ignoring his unpleasant dining companion for the moment, he looked around the table, but aside from Olivia, he didn't recognize anybody else. From the indifferent expression Olivia wore, she didn't know anybody at their table either.

There was a sudden bustle of activity. Servers emerged from the back doors with plates of what Drake knew to be chicken cordon bleu, covered in cloche dome covers to keep the heat from escaping the food until the plates arrived at their rightful tables.

Still looking irritated, Olivia remarked sourly, " _Finally._ The sooner the food gets here, the sooner this whole _mess_ will be over."

Drake really did give a small laugh this time.

 _She thinks we're going to be served as fast as the royals? That's almost cute._

From years of being seated at back tables at these stuffy events, Drake knew that those main courses would take forever to arrive at their table, if they even came at all.

Knowing that drinks were a little easier to get, he flagged down a server and asked for a bottle of whiskey for their table. Olivia, looking like she was planning to make sure she would do everything she could to erase from her mind the memory of being seated at the back table, demanded a bottle of wine.

As the server departed to get their alcohol, Drake and Olivia met each other's eyes, and he knew for sure that they were thinking the same thing.

 _This is going to be a long night._

* * *

(End of Chapter One.) (Originally posted on T-08/08/17.) (F-27/06/18.)

* * *

 **Chapter One notes:** This takes place during Book One, Chapter Sixteen. In the game, Drake said he was seated at the back, and if you choose to seat Olivia at the back as well, you get… this fanfic! :D Can anybody guess what Olivia's confession to Drake is going to be? :P

 **About my main Pixelberry fanfic:** Hello! :) If you like Pixelberry's Hollywood U or Pixelberry's Red Carpet Diaries, then I encourage you to read my MC/Hunt fanfic "NYTMC 1: Not Your Typical Meet-Cute." It currently has 219,000 words (64 chapters), and it is written from Thomas Hunt's perspective :D

 **(Thanks for reading! :D Reviews make me smile! ^_^)**


	2. Whiskey And Wine

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Choices. This fun game belongs to Pixelberry! :)**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Whiskey And Wine**

* * *

The requested bottles of alcohol arrived within a couple of minutes, proving that either the service at Ramsford was much better than at Lythikos, or that the mistress of the former was much less vindictive than the latter. Drake nodded his thanks at the server who opened his whiskey bottle and poured him a generous amount in his glass tumbler…

…but Olivia, after the server had uncorked her bottle of wine, silently gestured that the bottle ought to be placed on the table before impatiently waving the server away.

The wine bottle had barely settled on the white tablecloth before Olivia snatched it up, her fingers curling forcefully around the bottleneck before pouring herself a generous glass of white wine, almost filling her crystal goblet to the brim. After it had fulfilled its purpose, Olivia carelessly placed the bottle of wine beside the peony flower centerpiece Drake had arranged earlier before lightly grasping the stem of her fine goblet with her fingertips, closing her eyes as she took her first mouthful of wine.

Drake couldn't actually remember the last time he and Olivia had sat down at the same table. They must have, at some point, when they were children, because Olivia had moved to the royal palace when she was orphaned at five years old, and lived there for several years. He could vaguely remember himself, Liam, and Olivia sometimes having picnics in the royal gardens, during which she clung to Liam like a koala bear on the last remaining branch of a very tall tree.

However, despite her koala-like tendencies, Olivia had a surprising abhorrence for trees.

While she followed Liam everywhere during the first few months of her stay in the palace, the only exception was when Drake and Liam climbed the tree in the middle of the garden maze. She never followed them as they scurried up its branches – instead, she kept her eyes on the ground and wailed for them to come down, covering her eyes in an attempt to hide her tears.

Drake would have happily stayed up there for hours if it meant being free of her company, but Liam was too kindhearted to cause anybody distress, even if it was somebody as annoying as Olivia.

Unfortunately.

* * *

A slight tinkling sound drew Drake out of his thoughts. In what seemed like no time at all, Olivia had already emptied her glass and had set it down the table in order to fill it again. He looked at his own drink – it looked almost untouched.

 _Well, if Olivia's drinking…_

He downed his whiskey in one loud gulp.

Stopping in mid-pour, Olivia turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Somebody's enjoying his drink. Cheap whiskey, no doubt," she commented scathingly.

Drake shot back, "You're one to talk. That's your second glass of wine in, what, five minutes?"

"That's none of your _business,_ " she growled at him, sharply turning her attention back to pouring, the abrupt motion making a couple of droplets of wine jump up from the glass as she continued. When she was finished pouring, the lightly-colored liquid looking like it would spill itself out of its confinement unless handled carefully.

But ever the proper noble, Olivia handled the filled glass without difficulty, raising it to her lips to take a drink. Surprisingly, she only took a sip before placing it back on the table – but instead of leaving the glass, her delicate fingers stroked the stem of her goblet as she looked carelessly around the room…

…and saw Liam, in his crisp, expensive white suit, beaming at a stunningly beautiful Riley, whose sparkling blue ballgown looked like she would put Cinderella herself to shame.

Drake's breath caught slightly. And all of a sudden…

 _Why do I feel cold?_

Without stopping to think, he poured himself another half-glass of whiskey, and just as Olivia raised her glass to take a deep gulp of expensive white wine, Drake felt his own thumb under his lower lip as the rest of his fingers tipped the contents his filled tumbler into his waiting mouth, feeling the unique sensation that only alcohol could provide spread through him, in his chest and stomach and arms, replacing the unexplained cold from a second ago with a smothering warmth that gave his head a light, pleasant sensation.

From Olivia's slightly contented expression as she gently set her empty glass on the table, it was evident that she enjoyed the same comfort her chosen type of alcohol had been able to give her.

 _Wait… empty?_

After double-checking, Drake gave a small frown when he realized that Olivia had emptied her goblet in a matter of seconds. He didn't care about Olivia; he didn't care about what she did or what she drank…

 _…but two full glasses of wine in ten minutes? Without eating first?_

As if feeling his scrutiny, Olivia turned sharply to look at Drake – or, at least, the motion would have looked sharp had she been sober. Her shoulders swayed slightly – another effect of the wine that Drake would have missed had he not been paying attention.

"What are _you_ looking at?" she scoffed.

Giving a half-smirk with the corner of his mouth, Drake used his empty glass to gesture towards her own. "Aren't you drinking too much? Didn't take you for a lush."

Narrowing her eyes at him, she defiantly poured herself a third glass and drained half of it, wiping her mouth with a napkin before saying nastily, "Mind your own business, Drake. I'm not your friend. I'm not your family. I'm not Savannah."

 _Did she just…?!_

Enraged, Drake grabbed the whiskey bottle that was only inches away from his tumbler and filled his own glass to the brim for the first time, unintentionally mimicking Olivia's actions by swallowing half of the burning liquid inside before giving the woman beside him a hateful glare.

"Olivia – don't you **_dare_** talk about Savannah to **_me._** " **  
**

* * *

(End of Chapter Two.) (T-16/08/17.) (F-27/06/18.)

* * *

 **Chapter Two notes:**

(B01-C16.) (Whiskey: One and a half glasses.) (Wine: Two and a half glasses.). One of the things I wanted to express in this chapter is that the two of them spent a lot of time together in the palace as children, which means that they knew each other before they started making and wearing their public masks. Despite their animosity, and whether they acknowledge it or not, Drake and Olivia share a history - a bond - that none of the other TRR characters can fully understand. (Not even Liam, because Drake and Olivia were outsiders in a way that he never was.)

* * *

 **Personal comments:**

This is my first #ChoicesCreates entry for Round 23 ("How Choices changed my life").

Pixelberry made their announcement about HWU in late March 2017, but I didn't truly believe it until early April 2017. When I finally realized that it was true, I knew that a big part of that decision was because Pixelberry wanted to spend the majority of their time and effort on Choices.

My… very deep _**grief,**_ my _**mourning,**_ about HWU, about losing what felt like one friend and one thousand friends at the same time… made me want to drink alcohol for the first time in almost four years, because, unlike social drinkers, I don't drink to socialize - I drink to forget.

However, I wasn't living alone at the time, and drinking the way I wanted to would have only led to questions I wouldn't have wanted to answer. So my "no alcohol since 2013" record is still intact to this day.

(As Drake would say, "Woo hoo.")

In this chapter, some of the sensations I described are things I remember from when I used to drink alcohol. (Neither whiskey nor wine were my drink of choice, though.) Olivia is drinking to forget, because, sometimes, the choice to forget can be very, very tempting.


	3. Empty Glass

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Choices. This fun game belongs to Pixelberry! :)**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Empty Glass**

* * *

"Olivia – don't you _**dare**_ talk about Savannah to _**me.**_ "

In response, Olivia scoffed and turned her attention back to her goblet of white wine, but it was too late. Drake's mood had been ruined, and he scowled at his own glass tumbler, filled to the midpoint with brown whiskey.

Tonight was the second time that Olivia had brought up Savannah during the social season. Drake had been furious the first time she had. The meteor shower was the one night of the year that had always just been for him and Savannah, and Olivia, almost as if she knew what that night meant, had ruined that – or had almost ruined it, until Riley had followed him into the blizzard.

Absently noting that Olivia had finished her own drink and was pouring herself another, Drake studied the whiskey in his own glass. It wasn't his preferred cheap brand – despite what Olivia thought, Bertrand had made sure that only the best of House Beaumont's alcohol was served tonight – and so didn't offer Drake the comfort that a more familiar drink would have.

Even so, this whiskey was better company than the hateful duchess sitting next to his commoner self… the hateful duchess who, during this social season, had already brought up the topic of Savannah more times than everybody else in Drake's life had all year.

Hearing the light _thud_ of the wine bottle on the table, Drake glanced sideways and saw that Olivia had poured herself only half a glass this time – yet, despite his current ire at her attitude, Drake's gentlemanly instincts had developed by years at court, and he couldn't help but frown in concern.

 _She's already had a lot to drink tonight. Is she used to drinking this much in one sitting? How strong is that white wine? Will she be able to-_

Glaring at him, Olivia snapped, "Stop looking at me. Don't monitor how much I'm drinking. I already told you I'm not Savannah." Purely out of spite, she emptied her wine glass completely.

He growled.

"Why do you keep mentioning Savannah?"

"Why do you keep acting like she's a ghost? You know she's alive."

Drake jerked to his side, towards Olivia, and urgently grabbed her wrist – not tightly enough to hurt, but firmly enough that he could feel her slightly clammy skin under his palm.

"Do you know where she is? _**Do you know where Savannah is?"**_

He knew that he ought to be furious that Olivia had known something and had never told him – what kind of vicious person hid that kind of information? But it didn't matter; _**nothing**_ mattered now that Drake knew that somebody knew where his sister was. Years wondering if she was safe; years of hating himself because he couldn't protect her…

"Where… _**is**_ she?"

Did that pathetic whimper of a question actually come from him? He should have more pride – but he would think about pride and keeping up appearances once Savannah was safe back with him, and until that moment came, things like maintaining his stoic reputation didn't matter. Drake would be desperate, and pathetic, and anything else he had to be if it meant that Olivia would tell him everything she knew…

* * *

…but when he was finally able to look into Olivia's eyes, he saw that she was extremely confused by his question.

 _Olivia doesn't know._

He let go of her wrist as if she had burned him.

And that was even partly true, for Drake did feel burning, somewhere, but not his hand, and he quickly finished his whiskey because that was the kind of burning he could stand, but it wasn't enough, and so he filled up _his_ glass, too, because why should Olivia be the only one to drink heavily tonight?

Without looking up, he felt Olivia staring at him, and he didn't bother trying to see why. The genuine confusion in her eyes earlier had already… He didn't want to see what her gaze held this time. Irritation? Mockery? Pity?

Yes, irritation and mockery were certainly possibilities, but not pity, because pity required compassion, and that was something Olivia didn't have when it came to Drake. Which was why his reaction earlier had been stupid to begin with.

Why did he think that Olivia knew anything about Savannah's whereabouts? If he didn't know where Savannah was, how could Olivia, of all people, know? And even if she did, why did he assume that she would actually help him?

Stupid, stupid, _**stupid**_ for Drake to think, even for one moment, that he was actually _**human**_ in her eyes, and, defiantly, he raised her eyes to meet hers…

* * *

…only for her to turn her head away at the last moment as she picked up the bottle of wine once more.

Instead of pouring her next glass of wine quickly and purposefully, as she had done with the previous three and a half glasses, Olivia did things differently for her next glass – she held the bottle at a very slight angle, and the wine slowly trickled out like a tiny, delicious waterfall as it fell into Olivia's wine goblet.

When she finished pouring, Drake saw that the glass was so full that it was almost overflowing, but he kept silent.

After putting the wine bottle down on her right, she curved her fingers behind the glass and slid it carefully towards herself, slowing down to a full stop when it was just a few inches away from her.

"Somehow, I knew," Olivia admitted, "because everything felt heavy when I woke up that morning. I didn't know what it meant, since I was young and stupid – and then a servant came in and told me, and I understood."

Before Drake could blink, her glass was somehow empty again…

…and he suddenly remembered why Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis received the title of Duchess Lythikos at only five years old.

* * *

(End of Chapter Three.) (T-19/09/17.) (F-27/06/18.)

* * *

 **Chapter Three notes:** (B01-C16.) (Whiskey: Two glasses.) (Wine: Four and a half glasses.) Years of sitting with Savannah at back tables made Drake feel protective of women in his immediate presence. Even though he REALLY doesn't like Olivia :O he knows that her judgement and movement will be impaired by the amount of alcohol she's drinking, which makes him slightly protective of her :) whether either of them like it or not XD And pay attention to that last line... it's one of the most important lines in this chapter.

 **About my main Pixelberry fanfic:** Hello! :) If you like Pixelberry's Hollywood U or Pixelberry's Red Carpet Diaries, then I encourage you to read my MC/Hunt fanfic "NYTMC 1: Not Your Typical Meet-Cute." It currently has 219,000 words (64 chapters), and it is written from Thomas Hunt's perspective :D

 **(Thanks for reading! :D Reviews make me smile!** **^_^)**


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